Adown the land great rivers glide
With lyric odes upon their lips,
The sheltered bay with singing tide
Forever woos the storm-tossed ships—
And yet, for me more magic teems
By California's willowed streams.

For some the crowded market place.
The bustle of the jammed bazaars.
The fleeting chance in fortune's race
That ends somewhere amid the stars—
Give me a chance to gather dreams
By California's willowed streams.